


Falling

by colorfulmagic



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alcohol, Bakoda Fleet Week, Established Relationship, Falling asleep in each other’s arms bc that’s some good shit, Fluff, Love Languages, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulmagic/pseuds/colorfulmagic
Summary: He opened the cabin door to the sight of Hakoda hunched over on the chair near his desk, contorted into a ridiculous position to treat the wound that was evidently on his side.“Wow,” Bato said, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t think I’ve seen you looking this pathetic since that thing with the polar leopard.”Hakoda paused in his efforts long enough to shoot Bato a rude gesture, and Bato laughed.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 157
Collections: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020





	Falling

Hakoda was injured. 

Bato almost missed it, with how well he hid it. Would have missed it, if Bato hadn’t seen the slightest stumble as they made their way on the ship, surrounded by the bustle of the rest of the men as they packed their supplies onto the ship. 

He let it rest until they were boarded and sailing, long into the night when the soft rocking of the boat was sending the rest of the men to sleep. When Bato did finally check on him, he opened the cabin door to the sight of Hakoda hunched over on the chair near his desk, contorted into a ridiculous position to treat the wound that was evidently on his side. 

“Wow,” Bato said, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t think I’ve seen you looking this pathetic since that thing with the polar leopard.”

Hakoda paused in his efforts long enough to shoot Bato a rude gesture, and Bato laughed. 

He locked the door behind him and moved over to Hakoda, rapping the desk with two knuckles. Hakoda huffed through his nose and gingerly moved to sit on top of the desk. 

Bato inspected the wound carefully. It curved wickedly from the side of his ribs to just above the jut of his hip, sluggishly bleeding and puffed up at the edges. Hakoda had evidently been trying to bandage it, and failing, judging by the blood soaked gauze lying around him. 

“Why didn’t you get it treated?” Bato said, absently pressing down at the edge of the wound. Hakoda hissed through his teeth before responding.

“Bad for morale,” he said tightly. “‘S not that bad, anyway. Can handle it.”

“Uh huh,” Bato said, looking pointedly at the blood soaked bandages lying on the desk. Hakoda winced. 

Bato perched on the chair in front of where Hakoda was on the desk, shifting slightly to get better access to his side. He let himself get lost in the repetitive motions, dabbing at the blood and cleaning the wound. Hakoda used to do this for him all the time when they were younger, back when Bato couldn’t seem to go a day without getting into a fight. He had been a pretty angry kid, always solving problems with his fists. Hakoda had always been the one who wanted to talk things out, find a compromise. It was what made him such a good Chief. The first time in warrior training someone had handed Hakoda a spear Hakoda had held it gingerly, like it might attack him. Now, Hakoda could gut a man in two moves. Now, Bato was the one patching him up. 

“It shouldn’t be bleeding this much,” Bato murmured. 

“Was being an idiot. Opened it up again.”

“Hm. What did you do?” Bato asked, reaching down without looking and opening the drawer. He rooted around blindly until he found what he was looking for, pulling off the cork with his teeth and liberally soaking the cut with booze. 

Hakoda hissed through his teeth again, but his body remained still and tense under Bato’s hand. Bato reached up and handed him the bottle, and Hakoda took a long swig, cheeks hallowing around the rim. 

The flickering golden light from the lamp bathed him in its soft glow. His hair was down from his usual topknot, silky strands brushing over his jaw. It softened the usual sharp lines of his face, and Hakoda met his gaze, dark blue eyes boring into his with a familiar intensity. 

“The usual,” Hakoda said finally before taking another long swallow, setting it down with a thunk as Bato began stitching the skin together. “Tried reaching for something I shouldn’t have. Carried too—“ he gasped slightly as Bato moved the whale bone needle through skin, and Bato murmured apologetically. “Too much,” Hakoda finished. 

“I don’t know what you think your usual is, but it’s not that.”

“Oh yeah? What is it then?”

“Ah, getting into fights at random Earth Kingdom bars, getting into fights with arctic rhinos, falling off the masts of ships—“

“Literally every one of those was taken out of context,” Hakoda said. “And you dragged me into half those fights in the first place. Besides, I like to think I’ve mellowed out in my old age.”

“Oh you have,” Bato said, tying the last stitch. “Which is why I only have to do this every other week or so.” 

Hakoda hummed, and Bato wrapped gauze around his middle, carefully taping it in place when he finished. He placed a kiss on the skin just above the bandaging before tilting his head up to meet Hakoda’s intent gaze.

“Good as new,” Bato said lightly. “Well, almost. It’ll probably leave a scar.”

“Oh no,” Hakoda said sardonically. “Anything but that.” Bato huffed out a laugh, letting his hands brush up Hakoda’s side and feeling the dozens of scars already littering his torso, silvery white against tan skin. 

Hakoda tugged on him and Bato stood up, body snug between Hakoda’s thighs. They kissed long and slow, taking their time. Hakoda smelled of sea spray, and he tasted like whiskey.

“Bed?” Bato asked finally, stroking Hakoda’s cheek with his thumb. Hakoda groaned, rolling his head forward and settling his forehead against Bato’s chest with a thunk. 

“Can’t,” he said, voice muffled. “Got, some,” he waved his hand around vaguely, and when Bato didn’t give any indication of understanding he spoke again. “Letters. Earth Kingdom.”

“The letters will be there in the morning. You need to rest.”

Hakoda didn’t respond. His breath was even and slow against Bato’s chest.

“Koda,” Bato prompted. 

“Mm,” Hakoda said, body practically melted against Bato’s. Hakoda had always had the unerring ability to fall asleep absolutely anywhere. The bottom of a boat, leaned up against an ice cliff, more than once on the branch of some towering tree. Bato had brought it up with him at some point, befuddled and exasperated at how he kept nodding off in such dangerous situations.

“You’re there,” Hakoda had responded, looking up at him as though it should have been obvious. 

“Well, yes,” Bato had said slowly. “That doesn’t really answer my question, though.”

Hakoda had raised an eyebrow, shooting him that look he sometimes got when he thought Bato was being deliberately obtuse. Bato supposed that was answer enough. 

Now, Bato made a split second decision and pressed Hakoda tight against him before swiveling around, lifting Hakoda right off the desk. He was somewhat smug that he could still do this. Hakoda had always been on the leaner side, but the muscle he did have was firm and densely packed. Hakoda’s eyes flew open and he made a startled noise, arms automatically wrapping around Bato’s neck as Bato moved them through the cramped quarters to the small bed in the corner. He let them fall in a controlled descent, mindful of Hakoda’s tender side. 

“Okay,” Hakoda said, face inches from Bato’s own and mouth pursed. “While it is incredibly hot that you can do that, please never do that again.”

Bato laughed softly. The reluctant answering grin that tugged at the corner of Hakoda’s mouth seemed to soften his whole face. Hakoda glanced to the side, and his brows furrowed slightly. 

“I really do need to draft those letters,” Hakoda said. “Long Feng wants a detailed report of each of the camps we hit.” Bato traced his fingers lightly over the near permanent bruises under Hakoda’s eyes.

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” Bato said, seemingly changing the subject. It wasn’t a lie. War zones weren’t exactly the best for relaxing. Hakoda’s gaze immediately sharpened on his.

“You haven’t? What’s wrong? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I'm telling you now. And it’s just the usual,” he said tiredly. “Nightmares.”

“Hm.” Hakoda relaxed against him. “What about?”

“You,” Bato said softly. “Always you. Gone.” He would see Hakoda burning, or gutted, or worst of all were the ones where Bato himself would be behind the spear. Those would be the nights where Bato would lie awake in bed long into the night, not daring to close his eyes for fear of what would be painted behind his eyelids. 

“I’m right here,” Hakoda said, liquid blue eyes resting on his. 

“Hm. I hate waking up and you’re gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He started running his fingers through Bato’s hair, nails scratching against his scalp. Bato buried his head against Hakoda’s chest, eyes sliding shut. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” Hakoda said suddenly, and Bato barked out a laugh against his chest. “You’re not as subtle as you think,” Hakoda said, but Bato could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Worked though.”

“Go to sleep,” Hakoda repeated. Bato rolled them so Hakoda was on his chest, Bato’s long arms wrapped around him. Hakoda leaned the side of his head right over Bato’s heart and they rested like that, the soft rocking of the boat lulling them into drowsiness. 

Hakoda actually nodded off first, the wound and, Bato suspected, the whiskey making him more tired than usual. Bato watched him sleep for a long time, his eyelids fluttering, before succumbing to it as well, the heavy weight on top of him and the soft rocking of the boat pulling him down. 

**Author's Note:**

> My (late) contribution to BakodaFleetWeek, for the prompt love languages
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day!


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